


burning your bridges

by mothwrites



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03 Finale, Team "what's wrong with handcuffs?"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: If it's a choice between dying slowly in the wreck of a spaceship, or abandoning Warren Kepler, Jacobi will take the spaceship every time. If only it were his choice to make.





	

1.

“No way,” Jacobi said, staring at Minkowski with incredulous fury.

She paused in her tracks. After all the debates they’d had about the subject, none of them had expected this.

“But,” Eiffel started, looking from Jacobi to Minkowski with an increasingly worried expression, “but you’ll _die_.”

Jacobi glowered at him. “Then I’ll die. Give you all a clean sweep, huh? You _killed_ my best friend. My _sister._ I’ll be damned if you make me leave behind the last person I still care about.”

There came a slight cough. Hovering just behind him, Kepler spoke for the first time since the Hephaestus crew had entered the room. “Mr Jacobi…”

“ _I’m not leaving you here._ Sir,” Jacobi added, still professional despite everything.

“Mr Jacobi,” Kepler continued, “Get on that ship. That’s an order.”

“No,” Jacobi said again. “No way.”

Lovelace groaned, and made to grip Jacobi’s arm again in order to take him back to the observation deck. “Fine. Are we done here?”

“No,” Kepler answered. He looked up at all of them; his gaze settling on Minkowski in particular, and then flickered his eyes to her sidearm. “Commander. May I ask something of you?”

The reaction was diverse as it was instantaneous. Lovelace let out a short bark of a laugh, while Eiffel stared at him in horrified wonder. Minkowski remained silent and commanding. “You can _ask_ ,” she said, after a while.

“If you’d be so kind,” Kepler said, his voice as typically calm and pleasant-sounding as if he was ordering coffee, and not floating in handcuffs, “I’d like you to ask Mr Jacobi once more to board your ship. And if he refuses…” he stopped, and a slight smile quirked the corner of his lip.

Jacobi knew that smile. It never meant anything good.

“If he refuses,” Kepler continued, “shoot me in the head.”

There was a silence from everyone – Jacobi: horrified, Lovelace: amused, Minkowski: deliberating – after he delivered his request. Eventually, Minkowski’s hand travelled to her sidearm.

“Do you want a countdown?”

Kepler nodded his assent.

“ _No,_ ” Jacobi said immediately.

“Mr Jacobi,” Minkowski said levelly, neither her hands or her face betraying her true feelings. “You have my permission to board the Urania, as a prisoner, on our journey back to Earth. Are you going to join us?”

“No,” Jacobi said, a little less forcefully than before as his eyes darted from her face to her gun. “You won’t do this,” he said, although everyone knew he wasn’t sure. She’d done it before.

“If she doesn’t, I will,” Lovelace interjected cheerfully.

“ _Quiet,_ ” Minkowski snapped. “Ten.”

Jacobi’s expression transitioned from anxious to appalled. “Stop it.”

“Nine.”

“Minkowski, this is _stupid_ –“

“Eight.”

“Don’t do this.” He wasn’t looking at Minkowski anymore, but at Kepler. “Sir, please. Stop her.”

Kepler stayed silent, staring down the gun.

“Seven,” Minkowski continued.

 _“Warren._ ”

Minkowski’s hand wavered as she heard Jacobi say Kepler’s name for the first time. In the background, Lovelace fell silent. Eiffel let out a small ‘whoa’ of disbelief.

“Six,” Minkowski said, sounding less sure.

“Daniel,” Kepler murmured, still staring straight ahead. “Get on that ship.”

“Five,” Minkowski announced, and cocked her sidearm. The sound of it was as loud as any gunshot.

“ _Fine!_ ” Jacobi moved as if to dive in front of the gun; but zero-gravity, handcuffs, and Lovelace’s hand on his flight suit collar stopped him from moving. “I’ll go! I’ll go, put it _down._ You win.”

Minkowski sheathed her gun to mixed sighs of relief and disappointment.

“Hera,” she said, “factor one more soul into the Urania’s life support.”

Hera’s voice rang out clearly in the room. “Yes, commander.”

“Thank you, commander,” Kepler said. His face had been nothing but impassive since he had made his request. His eyes wouldn’t meet Jacobi’s: he addressed the room generally. “I wish you a… safe, and pleasant, flight.”

2.

“Eiffel,” Jacobi said as soon as they were alone. “Don’t leave him there.”

Eiffel had been quiet since the countdown-showdown, and as he’d secured Jacobi in the quarters that would serve as his cell. Now, he rounded on him.

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

“ _Eiffel_ –“

“ _No._ No! Jesus, do you know how hard it was to convince those three that they should let _you_ on board? And then you go and pull _that_!” Eiffel paced as best as one could in zero-gravity. He glared at Jacobi: but more than anything, he looked tired.

“I didn’t pull _anything_! I didn’t know he was going to – “ Jacobi interrupted himself, too frustrated to think straight – “I don’t know why he _did_ that!”

“I guess, because…. He’s your superior officer,” Eiffel offered lamely. “And he _lost._ He lost Maxwell. Maybe keeping you alive is the last thing he’s capable of doing.”

“Kepler isn’t that sentimental.”

“You think he doesn’t care about you?” Eiffel asked, curious. “Look, forget all the sci-fi bullshit for a moment. Forget sides and organisations and the blue nightlight of death floating out there. Pretend like we’re two guys in a bar, just talking.”

Jacobi nodded: an eyebrow raised.

“Do you love him?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Jacobi answered.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, God damn it.” He bared his teeth, daring Eiffel to laugh at him. “I love him. You happy now? You can take that back to Minkowski and have a good old chuckle about pathetic, clichéd Jacobi.”

Eiffel straightened up, and looked down at him. Jacobi avoided his gaze, in case he saw pity there. Maxwell used to pity him. On missions, late nights, sleeping in the houses of men they’d just killed, when he passed by her on the way to Kepler’s room: she’d pitied him. Poor, loyal Daniel.

“Okay.” Eiffel finally said. He ran a weary hand through his patchy crop of hair, and took a deep breath. “No promises, Jacobi. But I’ll see what I can do.”

3.

“No way,” Lovelace said, staring at Eiffel with incredulous fury.

Eiffel had expected this.

“Hear me out,” he said, hands held up in defence. “Just _listen._ ”

“I have to agree with Lovelace,” Minkowski interrupted, her stare just as fierce. “No way he comes with us, Eiffel. I don’t know how Jacobi got into your head, but – “

“He’s not in my head! I just think there’s been enough _death_ around here for one weekend _._ ”

“Are you forgetting that they have killed more members of _our_ crew than we did of theirs?” Lovelace asked, looking murderous. Murderous and _tired._ None of them had slept for more than half an hour at a time since… everything.

“No,” Eiffel replied shortly. “I _haven’t._ ” It would be a long time before he could forget the noise and viscera of the gunshot that had killed her. He imagined it would take even longer to forget the two blasts from over the comms that had _actually_ killed Hilbert… and Maxwell. “Look, captain: when we thought we’d lost you, it was… well, it was straight-up hell. Right, commander?”

Minkowski nodded. “Hell,” she confirmed, sounding far-away for just a moment before her steely expression snapped back into place.

“And we got you back,” Eiffel continued. “ _No,_ ” he added immediately as Lovelace opened her mouth to protest; “No, captain, I don’t give a _crap_ what species you are. You’re _our_ Isabel Lovelace. And we got you back. Thank space _God,_ we got you back. But Maxwell wasn’t so lucky. Jacobi’s right. We’ve taken enough from them. We _won…_ kinda. We don’t have to do this.” He finished his speech and thrust his hands into his pockets, looking at them both in turn. His eyes locked with Minkowsk’s, and he hoped that all the talk of Maxwell hadn’t affected her too badly.

Minkowski merely nodded: an almost imperceptible movement.

For her part, Lovelace looked slightly mollified. She made as if to touch Eiffel’s arm, but then stopped herself; cleared her throat, and blinked.

“That was a… lovely speech, Eiffel. Truly.”

“Thanks, captain. So you’re on board?”

“God, no.”

Eiffel groaned in frustration and threw his hands up. “ _Seriously?”_

“Listen to me,” Lovelace said, glaring again. “My turn now. Taking Jacobi on board is enough of a risk as it is. I mean, _you’d_ probably be fine, but he’s hurt enough and broken enough to go straight for Minkowski if his handcuffs ever slip.”

“I can handle Jacobi!” Minkowski interjected.

Lovelace waved her comment off. “I know. Which is why I agreed to let him come. But Kepler? Too dangerous. I won’t risk the rest of you on him. It’s a big ship, if we stop watching both of them for just _one_ second…”

 _“Captain?”_ Hera’s voice rang out in the room they’d chosen to congregate in on the Urania. _“If I may… I think I might have a solution.”_

Minkowski sighed, and nodded. “We’re all ears, Hera.”

_“I was just double-checking all the Urania’s systems, and I found something that I think could help. They have a cryo pod.”_

Eiffel automatically flinched at the word ‘cryo’, but then a smile appeared on his face. “Hera, baby,” he breathed out, “that’s _brilliant._ ”

“We put him in _cryo?_ ” Lovelace asked.

“Yes!” Eiffel pumped his fist in the air. “Team ‘what’s wrong with handcuffs?’ has evolved! We are now officially team ‘what’s wrong with cryo?’”

 _“Well, there’s only enough space for one person,”_ Hera added. _“So handcuffs will still apply to Mr Jacobi.”_

“Good enough for me,” Eiffel said. “Commander?”

Minkowski tapped her fingers on her hip as she deliberated. “All right,” she said slowly. “But this has to be unanimous. Lovelace?”

Lovelace frowned. “And what happens to sleeping beauty when we get back to earth?”

“Who _cares?_ ” Eiffel asked. “Jacobi can wake him up and take the two of them somewhere nice and remote. It’s not like they can go back to Cutter when they’ve failed him _that_ badly. And we’ll all be long gone by them. Things to do, people to see…” he stopped, suddenly blinking hard.

“They’ll still be there, Eiffel,” Minkowski said gently, and he knew she was thinking about her husband. “We’ll see them. I promise.”

Eiffel nodded. “Captain?” he asked.

Lovelace ran a hand through her hair. “Fine,” she said eventually. “But I want to be the one who puts him under. Just to be sure. Now can we say goodnight and _go_ already?”

Minkowski nodded. “Grab Kepler, and I’ll meet you both back here. Hera, get us primed and ready for take-off.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Yes, commander.” Eiffel paused in the doorway as they left and looked at Lovelace. “Could we… could we give them a moment? Kepler and Jacobi, I mean. Before the big freeze.”

Lovelace tutted as she hauled them both down the corridor to the hangar bay. “I swear to God, if your bleeding heart gets us all killed, I _will_ stay dead so I can personally haunt you forever in the afterlife.”

“Sounds like a blast, captain.”

4.

“Ten minutes,” Lovelace said, as she pushed Kepler roughly into the room where they’d stashed Jacobi. “And Hera’s going to be listening the whole time. Do _not_ try anything.”

“ _Sir,_ ” Jacobi exclaimed.

Kepler’s heart sank, just a minuscule fraction, as he took in how rough his second-in-command looked. Heavy, red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. Unacceptable.

“Oh, god,” Jacobi said suddenly, looking at Lovelace. “Seriously? You’re going to kill him in front of me? After all that?”

Kepler frowned. “You haven’t told him?”

“Told me what?”

“I’m coming with you,” Kepler said, keeping his voice steady. “In a manner of speaking.”

“He’s going to be frozen up, all nice and secure, like a murderous popsicle,” Lovelace explained. “You owe Eiffel one _hell_ of a thank-you, Jacobi.”

“ _Ahem_ ,” Hera said, in lieu of actually coughing.

“And Hera,” Lovelace amended. “And if you take advantage of his ridiculous, _stupidly_ good nature in any way I will shoot you _both,_ understand? Nine minutes.” She checked Kepler’s handcuffs again, and left the room.

“Sir,” Jacobi said again, processing the revelation. “She means – the cryo pod? And what then?”

Kepler pushed off from the door with his feet until he was floating just inches in front of Jacobi.

“And then…” he said. “And then, it would seem that _you’re_ responsible for me.”

“So we’re…” Jacobi cut himself off, remembering that they weren’t alone. “Okay. Give me an order, sir.”

Kepler chuckled. “You want an order, Daniel? _Stay alive._ Keep your head down, and stay alive. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“I don’t know if I can keep my head around Minkowski, sir.”

“We’ll honour Maxwell in our own way. Can’t do that if you’re dead.”

Jacobi sighed at the mention, and nodded. “Stay alive,” he repeated, as if committing it to memory. “Yes. Sir.”

Not for the first time, Kepler wished his hands were free, if only so he could shake Jacobi out of his misery. Losing Maxwell had been… more than unfortunate, but it would _not_ break them. “I think we’re a little past ‘sir’, Daniel. Not as if Goddard is going to welcome us back with open arms, is it? You ready to be a fugitive?”

“Of course,” Jacobi murmured, leaning in closer. His hair had grown long in their time on the Hephaestus, and Kepler wanted to tangle it up in his fist to pull him closer.

“There’s an upside to all this, you know.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, Cutter’s thinly veiled threats about what will happen if I get too attached to you are now the _least_ of our worries.”

That did it. Jacobi finally cracked a smile.

 _“Two minutes,”_ Hera said.

The smile vanished. “Warren,” Jacobi said quietly. Desperately.

It was hard enough to kiss someone in zero gravity. In zero gravity with handcuffs, it was practically impossible.

Warren Kepler had never liked the word ‘impossible’.

“Come here,” he murmured, and leaning forward, caught him. Jacobi had clearly been worrying his lips with his teeth; they were chapped and ragged, but familiar. It had been a damn good while since he’d last allowed them this. Kepler allowed himself to savour it for that one, fleeting moment, and then brought his lips to Jacobi’s ear.

“When all this is over,” he whispered roughly, “we are going to _burn_ them.”

As they pulled apart, Daniel’s expression reminded Kepler of the first time he’d watched him set a house on fire; of the flames reflected in his eyes, in his dangerous, gleeful smile.

 _“I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,”_ Hera said pointedly, as the door opened to an unimpressed Lovelace, fingers itching to grab her sidearm.

Jacobi cleared his throat, and, putting some distance between them, he straightened up.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I love you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> first published on my tumblr: come hang out with me @ patsywxlker!  
> wolf 359 is quickly taking over my life and i love it


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